


there will be time

by echotovalley



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Keith (Voltron), M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Power Bottom Keith (Voltron), Top Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:21:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28439784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echotovalley/pseuds/echotovalley
Summary: It’s very much a mutual desire that a little more time with a few more chances would actually be nice. So— They don’t get to do this very often.And Lance makes every moment of it.
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 106





	there will be time

**Author's Note:**

> what have i done

* * *

They don’t get the chance to do this very often.

Turns out — humanitarian relief work takes a lot of time and energy that doesn’t come without its own pitfalls and a truly exhausting amount of paperwork. Which, don’t get Lance wrong he loves being able to traverse space at a more casual pace and meet new people and help them heal, it’s just surprising.

In a specific way.

Surprising enough that he’s almost asked Zethrid and Ezor how they find that work-life-sex balance but Keith made it very, very clear that a) it wasn’t their business, b) Lance definitely shouldn’t assume that’s a component of their relationship, c) Keith _doesn’t want_ to know if it is, and d) - this part is said in the most earnest whisper and with so much blushing Lance’s vision nearly blacks out, Keith is so fucking cute - Keith thought they were doing _okay._

And they are! Lance still can’t believe he gets to wake up beside his person every single day surrounded by the big, beautiful cosmos that has _nothing_ on his beloved’s eyes. He wants to spend a stupid amount of time with Keith, he’s so in love. Almost can’t deal with himself some days because _damn,_ he’s got it bad. 

There’s plenty of ways to express that, Lance ticks through them all and researches new ways all of the time. He’s a tactile person (Keith, given the opportunity is the same way, _god fucking bless_ ), he’s always been that way _and_ he can’t get over how physically compatible they are. Keith teases him that it’s just an excuse for Lance to be a handsy, hormonal teenager nearly into his mid-twenties.

Not as low blow of a hit as Keith thinks it is. He should really take it as the huge compliment it is.

Between them, there’s an entire conversation to be had the second his palm rests in the middle of Keith’s back during long meetings. An epic poem that writes itself when Keith has Lance braid his hair in the morning while they’re drinking the coffee Keith made for them. When they hold hands just to hold hands? A banger, he loves that song.

And as much as Keith lovingly chuffs or rolls his eyes at Lance-

It’s very much a mutual desire that a little more time with a few more chances _would_ actually be nice.

It’d be nice to get a little routine so he doesn’t feel like he’s three seconds from losing his mind just because one of them took their shirt off. But missions and meals and sleep and paperwork are a thing so their game is a little off and Lance actually is three seconds from losing his mind when he sees Keith’s bare elbow.

So—

They don’t get to do this very often.

And Lance makes every moment of it.

Every second he’s got Keith’s undivided attention and he brings the world in close, Lance tries to keep to his plan. Keith doesn’t say anything about the music Lance has down low on the little speaker he has on the bedside table, it’s something he’s slowly been trying to work in and Keith usually gets flustered with the music and _that’s_ how Lance knows Keith’s in no better shape. The urge to ask if the music’s okay, if Keith even likes it, burns in his chest but he doesn’t want to jinx it or break what they’ve tentatively built up.

As cheesy as it is, it’s not even songs with words.

It’s the plucky digital-borderline 8 and 64 bit tones that sound like 80's arcade music where first love is fragile and new and there’s still so much of the universe to explore. It always reminded Lance of the stars. Now of course he has a little bit of a different viewpoint since he’s actually been across the galaxy, has seen stars be born and die from control decks.

But the stars are still there in the synth chords and keys.

Just like Keith’s eyes.

They touch with reverence.

They take their time here because by the time one of them will reach for the lube, they’ll forget. Lance’s plans and their thoughts will evaporate like smoke, curl over their knuckles in silent laughter for trying to catch it. His heartbeat stutters harder than he thought it would when Keith splays his hand flat against Lance’s bare chest and gently backs him toward the bed, until he’s sitting down and Keith can slide into his lap.

They’re not even completely naked yet — they’re both still in their underwear — but Lance swears his nerve endings are on fire. Scorched at every point of contact between them. As Keith is still coming down, Lance’s hips hitch up. Just barely. It could easily be seen as Lance just getting more comfortable, better situated.

Lance knows Keith knows exactly what it was though, they’ve done this so many times.

A smile tugs at the corner of Keith’s mouth and he moves that hand he had on Lance’s chest up to his shoulder, thumb ghosting over the delicate skin of Lance’s neck in understanding.

_I got you._

_Me too._

He kisses Keith because he can’t think of anything better to do.

Because there _isn’t_ anything better than the moment his lips meet Keith’s and he gets that initial, tiny inhale of surprise as his reward. Keith’s weight settles fully into Lance’s lap and several cards are immediately laid out on the table. Maybe later he’ll be a little embarrassed by how half hard he is already, now is definitely just not the time.

It earns him a hum of surprise, Keith shifting his legs so he can cant his hips and inch that much closer.

Lance wraps his arms around Keith’s waist and pulls them flush together, he spreads his hand out on the small of Keith’s back because he know’s it gives Keith goosebumps and makes him shiver against the almost ticklish sensation. Nips playfully at Keith’s bottom lip before pulling away.

“Hi.”

Wow, okay. His voice doesn’t sound as smooth and cool as he had hoped it would. 

Not like it’s a secret that Lance can’t keep his chill around Keith.

He’s only human.

Keith’s looking him over like Lance could disappear right out from under him at any second and it makes Lance’s chest feel tight. Like they haven’t spent a truly countless amount of hours just laying in bed committing each other to memory. Like Lance hasn’t actually tried to count Keith’s eyelashes and Keith _never_ brushed his thumb over the faint line of freckles across Lance’s nose. He’s still looking at Lance like he’s seeing him for the first time.

And not in the _“Nope, nonono no, I’m rescuing Shiro”_ kind of way.

They don’t talk about the abyss. It’s a sensitive subject. It’s a steady, slow drip of fear into their relationship — Keith saw so many future realities and almost realities, it was a tangled jumble in his head. Occasionally he might tell Lance if something was slightly different than how he saw it on the space whale. But there were other times that took his smile and pressed it into a thin line. He didn’t want to alter what could be good. Didn’t want the spoilers to jinx whatever good he saw that he wanted so desperately to cling to. 

Sometimes it’s hard to tell if it’s a _good_ long stare or a sad one.

An all encompassing smile breaks over Keith’s face, Lance could cry.

Teary sex has definitely happened before, but it’s not the vibe for tonight. Lance has to save that stuff for only the really special occasions. 

“Hi.” And before Lance can respond (with probably something really dumb) Keith sweeps forward to bring them back together.

The timing of this kiss is different from the first, it’s deeper. It brooks no argument. Keith shifts again, changing the angle and using that momentum to knock Lance on his back, laying over him. Which is totally something Lance can get behind as the music still playing quietly in the background changes, the bass slipping from a light bounce to slow and heavier.

He drops his mouth open the same moment his fingers just barely curl under the seam of Keith’s briefs to touch the sensitive spot on the back of his thigh. Takes advantage of the soft gasp Keith makes to slide his tongue into Keith’s mouth. Sweeping light and quick before pushing forward with something heavier, just the way he knows makes Keith come undone.

Lance moves his fingers over the back of Keith’s thigh to hook his hand in the crook of his knee and pull it up to his hip. He rolls up twice before Keith starts to move with him, grinding slow and heavy. Keith is first to break the kiss when they hit a particularly good slide and his voice hitches on a breathy whine. He could come like this. Like stupidly quick if they kept moving together like they are and Keith keeps makes those noises.

Probably something else he should be embarrassed about, but with Keith, it’s only fact.

 _“Fuck.”_ Lance’s own voice comes out lower this time (finally) and raw, earns a _beautiful_ reaction from Keith.

Keith sits up and uses this new position to really lift and roll his hips. Takes his time to make the drag forward over Lance heavy and slow. Lance’s heart rockets into his throat with how dangerously close he gets. He doesn’t even realize his hand is fisted in the bedsheets until Keith smoothes his hand up Lance’s arm and gently coaxes his hand open to lace their fingers together.

“You’re-“

Lance closes his eyes, swallows past the lump in his throat, only for nervous laughter to replace it. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t even say anything.” Keith’s own laugh is breathy and incredibly endearing.

“Whatever it was going to be, you’re probably right.” He doesn’t open his eyes just yet, the buzz of _almost_ thrumming underneath his skin and the solid weight of Keith in his lap is nice and he wants to cherish this moment like it deserves.

Keith meets him in the moment, brushing his thumb over Lance’s and laying back over Lance. “So, are you going to tell me how you want to do this or do you need a minute to collect your thoughts?”

Lance drops one eye open to pin Keith with a withering stare. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you patience is a virtue?” 

He doesn’t get an answer aside from Keith raising his eyebrows, so he huffs and sits back up, Keith just going with the movement and getting back in Lance’s lap. He rubs his hand up and down the planes of Keith’s back — the hand that’s not still laced with Keith’s — and presses his nose in the space between Keith’s shoulder and neck.

“Wanna top. Are you good with-?” He feels almost silly saying it, but if it sounds dumb or unsure, Keith is kind enough not to point it out. He nods slowly, his chin just barely touching the top of Lance’s head where he’s started placing open mouthed kisses up the column of his neck.

It’s a small tragedy when Keith breaks away from Lance marking up his neck, but a necessary one to get what they need. But a victory as well when that isn’t strictly limited to getting a condom and lube. Keith tosses the two on the bed before hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and sliding them down his legs. Lance watches, blinks once then twice before his brain kick starts again and he takes off his own underwear.

Lance reaches out to Keith, drawing him back in and down onto the bed and he swears his vision tunnels from every point of contact they make without any clothes in the way. He catches Keith in an opened mouth kiss, really has to give it up for all of the training with how smooth he makes swooping Keith around, letting his back hit the mattress. Keith huffs with surprise, scrunching his eyebrows up at Lance when he pulls away.

“Really?”

“Yep. You’re gonna insist on training, you’re gonna reap the benefits.”

“Don’t you mean consequences?”

“Absolutely not.” Lance reaches for the lube and pours some out on his hand. He bites his lip when he looks back up at Keith. “Is it okay if I?”

Keith’s eyes immediately fall from Lance to his fingers, nodding silently as he moves back to rest his head on the pillows. Lance follows him, settling in slow and gentle as he lays half over Keith and half next to him so he can reach. Lance touches his fingers with the lube on them to the inside of Keith’s thigh, rubbing his fingers through it some more before his hand dips down between Keith’s legs. The second before he closes that distance, before he teasingly ghosts his finger around Keith, he looks up.

Because he wants to see it.

Wants to see the reaction he gets the moment he circles Keith’s rim.

It’s instantaneous.

Keith’s just as wound up as Lance is. He’s waited the exact amount of time Lance has had to wait for this. Where everything just feels like so _much_ and so big. And Lance plans on taking his time, getting Keith ready. Making sure every second of this is as good as he can make it because they don’t know when they’ll get another chance to make a whole evening of it and scheduling vacation time during relief work is very tedious.

Lance gets a little more lube and warms it between his fingers before bringing them back. This time he lists forward, presses his mouth against Keith’s when the give happens and the first finger slides in with almost no trouble. Keith groans through the kiss, trying to deepen it while also trying to get more friction down where he needs it. Lance crooks his finger and gives Keith what he’s chasing after. He pulls out partially to bring another finger to Keith’s rim.

There’s a little resistance, so Lance massages his fingers around Keith.

He knows Keith is fighting tooth and nail not to tell him to just do it, to hurry up. They’ve been doing this _extremely slow_ dance for what feels like hours and they’re not even fucking yet. Then, Lance’s second finger slides in with the first and Keith pulls out of the kiss to moan.

Lance crooks and pumps his fingers a few times before searching. The time they do have, Lance doesn’t take for granted. He learns and he remembers and adapts and meets Keith wherever he wants him. Sometimes it’s not always halfway, some days are harder than the others and it falls into place like simple routine. He’s committed Keith’s body to memory - the scar over his hip, a cut on the tip of his finger he got as a kid, _everything._ He wants this boy that has had to fight with blood, sweat, and tears for even the smallest of comforts and survival to know rest and how good he wants him to feel.

It also helps that Lance has long fingers, so it doesn’t take long.

Keith’s body jumps and goes taut, it’s his hand this time white knuckling the sheets as Lance whispers encouragements to him. He sweeps Keith’s bangs out of his eyes and leans down to kiss him again and again and again — planning to make a mess of his neck.

It doesn’t take long before Keith starts to move with Lance’s hand and they find a rhythm. There’s enough lube in the mix now, Lance doesn’t have to pull away for more, so he brings a third finger around Keith’s rim. Keith eases his back down to the mattress, he lets his knee fall to the side to give Lance more room.

It takes a special kind dexterity and balance to make it work without pulling his fingers out of Keith, but Lance is patient and has had plenty of practice to make it work. Lance comes up and over Keith in one fluid motion. His fingers twist to accommodate the new angle causing Keith’s knee to jerk.

Keith’s breath hitches before he breathes out slow, his eyes never once leave Lance’s. 

Heat blooms across Lance’s cheeks and the tips of his ears, the lighting in their room is dim, but it’s enough that Keith can see it. Knows that he can because he opens his mouth to probably ask, but Lance beats him to the punch with a crushing kiss and easily slipping one more finger in beside the next.

There’s three seconds that take their time to wash over them before sound comes rushing back. Even the kiss freezes for a moment as Lance gives Keith time to adjust and Lance realizes the music isn’t playing anymore. Which works great for him because the mood has definitely changed now and his plan is back in action and maybe his game isn’t as rusty as he thought it was. The song choices almost seem silly in comparison to where they’re at now.

Next time, he’ll have to see if he can convince Keith to listen to the heavier, slower bass lines that drive Lance crazy and make him think back to the times they’ve gone a little harder.

Keith wraps his hand around the back of Lance’s neck, gently nudging him until he gets the message to pull out of the kiss. Keith’s mouth drops open to pant between them as Lance starts moving inside him again, shifting over the sheets for a more comfortable position.

It’s just the kind of thing Lance needs in order to revisit leaving marks down Keith’s neck and across his collarbone.

Exactly what he needs to focus because he swears he’s seconds from shaking apart — he really didn’t think it had been that long since they had fooled around. He crooks his fingers the way he knows Keith likes, his mind blanks out when it has Keith going impossibly tight.

Maybe it had been longer than he thought.

It’s not like they keep a calendar.

Not a deal where they mark out their availability every second Tuesday of the month.

If space has taught them anything it’s time is weird and abundantly trivial — but here it matters. It _so_ matters. Where they touch anywhere and as much as they can given the position they’re in and the preliminary event they’re trying to accomplish. It matters when he drops his eyes from Keith’s face and gets a look at his dick, flushed to the tip and nearly laying flat against Keith’s hip he’s so hard.

Not that Lance is any better.

No one has the high ground and here and really the only thing that matters as his fingers find Keith’s prostate is—

Lance swallows, drops his head next to Keith’s on the pillow and eases the rhythm they’ve been going at. “D-do you want to now or?”

See, Lance is a giver. He’s got a few accomplishments he likes to achieve in a certain sequence of events and normally tonight would be no different, but….

 _“Hah- fuck.”_ Keith bares his hips down on a particular good drag of Lance’s fingers and brings his hand up to scrub them through his bangs to get his bearings. “Wouldn’t take much more from here, honestly. Maybe next time.”

Those eyes fall open again and Lance swears they’re glittering. Keith looks down between them before dragging his eyes back up Lance’s body with a look that makes Lance’s toes curl.

“Kind of have a plan of my own.”

Yep, okay. Lance can definitely get behind that, perhaps even literally depending on Keith’s plans. He backs off of Keith, pulling his fingers out of him only after a particularly pointed jerk of his hand. A heart-stopping tremor works up Keith’s spine before he kicks his foot at Lance for it. He ignores the remark Keith seethes his way in favor of scooting back to the end of the bed and swinging his legs over the side.

Planting his feet on the cool floor helps ground him as he tears open the package and swipes for the bottle of lube that’s rolled off to the side. He’s barely got everything settled and ready to go before Keith is pulling him back on the bed a little more. Absolutely does not squeak at the show he gets of Keith wrapping a leg across Lance’s lap to bring himself around to the front.

Keith holds himself up on his knees, hovering over Lance. He wraps his arms around Lance’s neck, brings them as close together as he can without them actually touching. “This good?”

Biggest underestimation of the century.

This is _perfect._

Lance nods, flicking his gaze down to Keith’s mouth and back up to his yes. He let’s out a breathy laugh. “Yeah.”

Keith kisses him deep and slow, doesn’t stop moving for different and better angles as Lance holds himself right under Keith. The second Keith starts to ease himself down, Lance can feel it down to his toes that he isn’t going to last. Not if Keith keeps up the gentle rise and fall of his hips as he seats himself closer in Lance’s lap.

Upends the entire universe when he catches Lance’s bottom lip between his teeth and drops down the rest of the way without warning. Lance jerks underneath him, his hands jump to Keith’s thighs. He holds him so tightly, it’ll be a miracle if he doesn’t leave behind bruises. It’s all of it at once. Keith’s weight in his lap is all encompassing and Lance is losing his mind thinking about how deep he feels in Keith.

“Great way to end this before it can even really get started, but okay.” Lance tries to pack the words with snarky heat, but it comes out as a wheeze when Keith’s only response is to squeeze around him tighter.

He raises up on those incredibly strong thighs and drops back down on a roll that’s fluid and has Lance seeing stars. “You wanted this, remember?”

Conversation in bed is great.

Soft pillow talk while they slowly fuck it out and stay so close together they’re hardly moving? Great.

Really bad jokes that have them laughing at each other? Nirvana.

But Lance is done with talking. Done with being a little too in his head and ready to give this his all — give Keith and their mutual pleasure everything they could want because what they do takes time and energy and they don’t know when this will happen next. From underneath Keith, Lance tries to contribute to the flow of things, meet Keith’s thrusts and move one of his hands to the small of Keith’s back to steady him.

Give him something to lean back into to change the angle a little when he feels the muscles of Keith’s legs start to shake.

Keith’s fingers snake through Lance’s hair and tug, just hard enough to earn him a deep, rumbling moan from Lance’s chest. He drops his hips faster and harder against Lance, works with him to find that spot. Lance’s heels brace into the cool floor beneath his feet and jerks Keith closer. They’re chest to chest when he crashes their mouths together. It’s uncoordinated and sloppy, but really fucking good as Keith meets him blow for blow.

Rolling his hips and squeezing and chasing his own please while he works his tongue into Lance’s mouth.

The only sounds in the room are skin slapping skin and their panting breaths.

Keith yanks back on a high keen because _yes,_ that angle. Right _there._

The position isn’t going to be sustainable for long. He’s hitting Keith right where he needs it and it quickly saps the strength in his legs, shaking with the determination to keep up the angle and rhythm for as long as he can hold out. Lance’s hand snakes under and down Keith’s thigh to rest in the bend of his knee, wraps his arm tighter around Keith’s waist even as he forces himself through the pace.

“I’ve got you.”

And he’s kind of known for keeping promises.

Moves them around on the bed without separating because that’s definitely not an option. The heat surrounding him works like vice — he doesn’t think he could pull out if the room was literally on fire and he tried as hard as he could.

He brings Keith back onto his back and takes over. He kisses wherever he can reach. Keith wraps one leg around Lance’s waist, the ball of his foot pressing insistently into Lance’s back. 

It doesn’t take long for him to find Keith’s prostrate again and he certainly doesn’t waste time setting the kind of pace they’ll both feel for days. Lance can’t get enough of that good, deep ache that goes down to his bones.

He wraps his hand around Keith, jerks him off with the same pace. 

Keith throws his head back, a hoarse yell echoing off the ceiling and coming back to ring in Lance’s ears like a shot. He’s close and Lance is too.

His orgasm builds low in his gut and skips up his spine, making his shoulders tingle.

Keith’s hands rake up and down Lance’s back on a particularly rough thrust. His fingernails bite into the skin of Lance’s back, yet still ever mindful of scar there.

The rhythm is falling apart, it’s getting erratic and desperate. Keith holds Lance so close to him, he can barely move. 

It feels incredibly good.

Lance’s head swims when Keith moans right into his ear.

“Ke _ith—“_

It’s hardly a warning because he’s coming half way through saying his name because Keith’s walls flutter around him and that’s all it takes. His orgasm is yanked out from under him and his vision whites out as he spills into the condom. Everything goes numb for one terrifying second before it all comes crashing back into Lance, every inch of skin tingling.

Keith is shuddering beneath him, his come spilling over Lance’s hand and streaked up their middles. There’s….a lot. It’s going to make for one hell of a clean up once he can feel his legs again.

He gets goosebumps up his arms and down his legs as the air kicks on, cooling the sweat on his skin.

Lance shifts his hips, getting a whine from Keith.

Poor guy has to be ridiculously sensitive.

But because Lance knows he likes just the tiniest dash of overstimulation, he shallowly lists forward. Keith keens in the back of his throat the same moment the wave of an aftershock breaks over him, He kisses Keith’s forehead down between his eyebrows and down his nose until he gets to his mouth.

He kisses him gently, brushes Keith’s sweaty bangs back out of his eyes. He reaches over his shoulder where Keith’s hands still rest between his shoulder blades. Lance laces his fingers with Keith's, bringing their joined hands back around so Lance can kiss each of Keith’s knuckles.

They might have to look into the second-Tuesday-calendar thing.

He loves Keith _so much. He loves him, he lo—_


End file.
